


Long Odds

by shotabootyshorts (vegetables)



Category: Big Hero 6 (2014)
Genre: Anal Sex, Established Relationship, Incest, M/M, Oral Sex, Sex, Sibling Incest, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-03
Updated: 2015-03-03
Packaged: 2018-03-16 03:47:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3473276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vegetables/pseuds/shotabootyshorts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It takes exactly three close calls with Aunt Cass for Tadashi and Hiro to realize, without a doubt, they need to find a way to get their aunt out of the house more often.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Long Odds

**Author's Note:**

> You probably shouldn’t take this too seriously.

It takes exactly three close calls with Aunt Cass for Tadashi and Hiro to realize, without a doubt, they need to find a way to get their aunt out of the house more often.

The first of these close calls is not particularly distressing, although this assessment is mostly Hiro’s claim that— _well_ , no harm, no foul. It occurs one Monday morning when Tadashi forgets to set his alarm ten minutes earlier than Aunt Cass’s designated morning check-in. It’s by pure luck that Mochi wanders into the room first, bellowing loudly for attention, and Tadashi leaps from the warm cocoon that is his bed and is forced to shove his younger brother off him. Hiro falls to the wood floor with a powerful _clunk_ , but he doesn’t have a chance to curse at his brother before he sees the alarm clock reads _7:28_. He’s still bleary-eyed when he hears Aunt Cass’s footsteps on the stairs. He scrambles to his side of the room in five seconds flat, leaping underneath his unused sheets and hiding his naked (and affectionately _bruised_ ) body from Aunt Cass, who happily wishes her nephews a good morning.

In unison, they charade a tired response.

* * *

The second close call occurs only three days later. In spite of the rules Tadashi has outlined for their relationship (and there are _many_ ), Hiro is stubborn and dynamically persuasive, and the younger Hamada completely disavows the regulation of _No Funny Business in the Garage_.

Tadashi has to hand it to his brother, though. Hiro presents a reasonable enough defense in this case: “Come on! We slack off and play video games in here all the time! And, _how many_ times have we procrastinated by eating enough pizza to make our stomachs burst? Or, how about when you deliberately hide things from me, just to see me get all worked up? You’re just splitting hairs, Tadashi.”

So, one way or another, Hiro ends up on Tadashi’s lap, and they’re kissing and groping at each other, and it’s clear which direction Hiro wants this to go. Tadashi is really starting to hate the fact that, despite their unnaturally high IQs, no amount of intellect or common sense is going stop them from being stupid, reckless, horny teenagers.

Except, of course, Aunt Cass.

Tadashi is _just_ starting to pin Hiro to the couch, his mouth pressed onto the boy’s shoulder, when their aunt starts to lift the garage door.

“Boys! Could you help me out?”

Hiro silently thanks the heavens for the garage’s rickety manual door.

“I need one of you to watch the counter for ten or so minutes while I help Mister Endō find where he parked,” their aunt explains, fully lifting the door and finding her nephews sitting peacefully—if not, _suspiciously_ , she briefly notes—on opposite ends of the garage. “Honestly, that poor old man shouldn’t even be driving anymore,” she adds.

Tadashi closes the textbook he was pretending to read. “Of course, Aunt Cass,” he cheerfully replies, and Hiro resents there’s not the slightest pitch of unease in his older brother’s voice.

Hiro sighs and slumps further into his chair. He needs a second before he can follow Tadashi into the café.

* * *

The third—and final—instance takes place on beat poetry night. The café is opened later than usual, and Hiro and Tadashi assume Aunt Cass will be too preoccupied with her guests to bother checking on them.

Hiro is on his knees, unfastening Tadashi’s belt and teasing him gently. He pushes Tadashi’s shirt halfway up and nips at his stomach, his hips—and there’s a smug smirk on his face as he urges his brother to move closer. He’s pleased with Tadashi’s hitched breathing, and he rewards his brother by rubbing his hand against the stiffening bulge in his pants. Hiro’s fingers are centimeters away from reaching into the apparel when the stairs creak and their aunt’s chipper voice is heard.

“We had some leftover cookies! Do you boys want—?”

Aunt Cass is cut off when she hears Hiro make some kind of startled yelp, followed by a collapse of books and desk items. She watches as Tadashi, his back to her, seems to stumble backward onto his nightstand, while Hiro remains out of view.

“Is everything all right?” she asks, worriedly. She places the plate of cookies on Hiro’s bed and makes her away around the bamboo room separator.

“Uh—yeah, definitely!” Hiro shouts from the floor, far too energetic. He rearranges his limbs quick enough so that it appears he’s looking for something under Tadashi’s bed.

Tadashi rubs the back of his head and tries to make suitable eye-contact with his aunt, now that his shirt and pants have been rearranged. “Just looking for one of Hiro’s tube wrenches,” he quickly says.

She’s still suspicious but, ultimately, rolls her eyes and dismisses their behavior as part of some troublemaking antic. “Well, get some rest, you knuckleheads,” she gently berates, turning to leave the room.

Tadashi promptly glares at Hiro, and it’s decided: _Something needs to be done_.

* * *

“Well, _do you_ have any bright ideas?” Hiro bitterly asks. They’re sitting in Tadashi’s lab (which has more or less become Hiro’s lab space, as well), and Hiro is tapping his fingers against the countertop, visibly annoyed.

Tadashi hesitates. He wants to say something responsible, remind Hiro that the house is Aunt Cass’s and that they should respect it; they’re only entitled to so much while living under her roof. Besides, it’s not like Aunt Cass has any reason to believe her nephews are desperately seeking privacy.

 _If she only knew_ , Tadashi thinks, guilt hitting him like a tidal wave as his mind betrays him with visual reminders of every reason even _he_ wants extended alone time with his younger brother.

Every muffled scream. Every restrained thrust. Every hurried climax.

Tadashi turns a few shades brighter.

“We could send her to a spa for a day,” Tadashi suggests. “Besides, she could use a day to relax, unwind. She certainly deserves it.”

Hiro sways back and forth in the swivel chair, considering it. “Yeah, that’s good—but, those places are _expensive_. You don’t have money. I don’t have money. Although, I _could_ get money if—”

“No bot fighting,” Tadashi interjects, and Hiro pouts.

The silence extends for several more minutes until Hiro leaps from his chair with a victorious snap of his fingers.

“I got it!” he declares. “We’re going to find Aunt Cass a _boyfriend_.”

* * *

For the next few days, Hiro and Tadashi chart out all the eligible bachelors they know. They debate back and forth about the possible compatibility between Aunt Cass and the guy who owns the flower shop, Aunt Cass and the overly friendly mailman, Aunt Cass and Alistair Krei.

“Definitely not Krei,” Tadashi says. “He’s a divorcée with what I’m guessing is a lot of baggage.”

“If by baggage, you mean _money,_ then, yes. Wouldn’t it be great if Aunt Cass married a billionaire?”

Tadashi laughs. “Let’s focus on getting her one date before we start searching for husband material.”

Later, when Tadashi returns home from his evening class, he finds Hiro at his computer, staring intently at the screen and occasionally clicking the mouse as he browses a webpage that seems to hold his attention quite well. When Hiro does not respond to his older brother’s inquiry, Tadashi assumes Hiro is up to no good and browsing bot fight schedules. He quietly lurks behind Hiro to get a view of the computer screen, and his shadow finally catches Hiro’s attention. He jumps back and swears at Tadashi, telling him not to startle him.

“What has you so captivated?” Tadashi asks, and he leans in further, placing a hand on Hiro’s shoulder as he glances at the screen. He scoffs. In any other scenario, catching his brother browsing a dating site would have resulted in distress (and, moreover, _anger_ ); but, Tadashi knows Hiro is following up on their previous conversation.

“No one is good enough for her,” Hiro complains, continuing to scroll down an endless pool of profile results.

“I know,” Tadashi agrees; “but, maybe we ought to let Aunt Cass decide that for herself.”

It’s still easier said than done. Tadashi can only recall two times in his life that Aunt Cass has gone on a date—and both times, he kept a close eye on the individual at hand. They’d each been nice, suitable gentlemen, but Tadashi figures, even now, that had either relationship gone beyond dinner, he and Hiro probably would’ve childishly sabotaged it, eager to protect their aunt from outsiders threatening their family dynamic.

“I was thinking we should just make Aunt Cass a profile,” Hiro continues. “That way, we can just weed out the losers who contact us, rather than trying to get through all these profiles.”

Tadashi briefly considers the pros and cons of that suggestion. “I guess it’s worth a shot,” he finally says, and he presses a quick but hard kiss against Hiro’s temple before sitting down on his brother’s bed.

They begin to outline a brief bio, channeling their best Aunt Cass voice. After a gleeful couple of paragraphs and a few dozen emojis, Hiro nods with satisfaction.

“We should probably mention she takes care of her two nephews,” Hiro ponders as he reads over their work.

“Maybe... But, you shouldn’t mention our ages,” Tadashi suggests, warily. “Well, at least not _yours_.”

Hiro tilts his head. “Why not?”

“Well, it’s the internet. There are guys out there that— _you know_ , purposely target women with young children. To get, uh, _access_.”

Hiro laughs in disbelief. “You’re insane,” he declares, dismissing the statement but working out the biography enough so he doesn’t have to disclose any numbers.

After finishing the bio, they debate whether to upload a photo. They mutually agree publishing an all-too candid photo of Aunt Cass is probably a bigger violation of her privacy than what they’re already doing—so, they choose the lesser of two evils and use a photo of her dressed as Nausicaä from last Halloween.

“At least her identity is semi-concealed, right?” Hiro reasons, promptly pressing ‘save’ on the profile editor.

And, with that, Aunt Cass’s dating profile is published.

When it’s lights out in the Hamada household, Hiro and Tadashi wash up and bid their aunt good night. In separate beds, they wait approximately 32 minutes and 13 seconds for Aunt Cass to call Mochi into her room, followed by the gentle _click_ of her door pressed against the frame with the slightest crack.

Hiro is in Tadashi’s bed faster than either of them can take a breath.

It’s moments like this that drive the brothers mad. It’s the cruelest mix of thrill and frustration. Hiro resents their relationship is seen as _wrong_ , but he’d be lying if he said there wasn’t something exhilarating about its taboo nature. He loves the excitement of sneaking around, of marking each other’s skin in unseen places. But, there’s hardly anything enjoyable about the reality of Aunt Cass finding out what they’ve been doing.

And, Tadashi—loving, caring, morally grounded _Tadashi_ —constantly questions how he has the right to feel any aggravation for the matter. It’s not his place. There’s a reason this is a secret. What he has allowed to transpire between them is viciously unethical, and yet— _yet_ , he feels Hiro’s small limbs shimmy under the sheets, and he kisses Tadashi with such genuine content that all of this just _has to be okay_.

“Mmm, much better,” Hiro purrs. He presses his nose into Tadashi’s neck and breathes in his scent.

 _It has to be_ , Tadashi continues to think, and they stay entwined like this for several minutes before Hiro begins to chuckle.

“What’s so funny?” Tadashi asks, peering down at Hiro.

“What you said earlier,” Hiro answers. “About crazy geezers out there, just wanting to pounce at the opportunity of a vulnerable single parent. You really are ridiculous.”

Tadashi blinks. He wonders if Hiro is truly this naïve not to believe the dangers of the internet, then remembers this is the same kid who thinks it’s acceptable to wander the dark alleys of San Fransokyo to participate in bot fights.

“Unbelievable,” Tadashi breathes out.

Hiro just laughs again. “Well, why haven’t you warned me of these creepy internet stalkers before, huh? If I had known they were out there, in search of supple teenage flesh, I might’ve been satisfied long before you stopped guilt-tripping over _your_ feelings for me.”

“Yeah, right,” Tadashi dismisses, wrapping an arm around Hiro’s waist and urging him back closer. “Do you really think I’d let some pervy old man touch you?”

“You’re old and pervy,” Hiro remarks with a shrug.

Whether or not Tadashi has a defense ready is moot, because Hiro is already kissing his brother and clumsily reaching inside his pajama bottoms. Tadashi exhales sharply at the touch, his body reacting instantaneously. He briefly glances at the clock; it’s half past ten. By now, Aunt Cass _should_ be fast asleep, but that hardly means either of them can relax. Tadashi figures this has to be quick, so he gently nudges Hiro’s hand away and takes charge.

Hiro sighs happily as he readjusts himself on Tadashi’s bed, his back against the pillows, and his brother looming over him, stamping kisses all along his chest. All Tadashi’s guilt—for this relationship, for his inability to control his sex drive, for conspiring to setup their aunt on blind dates—fades away when Hiro melts against him. Tadashi remembers all the reasons he’s entirely desperate to have _just one_ night alone with Hiro where volume and disruption and time are not a concern.

* * *

It’s been exactly nine days since Aunt Cass’s dating profile has gone online. Tadashi usually skims through the received messages after classes, deleting any that resonate even the tiniest bit of _creepy_. 

Together, Hiro and Tadashi narrow the dating pool down to three men and quickly begin correspondence. They agree to be upfront with each of the men, admitting it’s not Cass Hamada behind the screen but, rather, her two nephews—(“We’re still not telling them your age,” Tadashi reiterates)—and, thankfully, the three men find the matchmaking effort quite endearing. So, the Hamada brothers tell them a bit more about their hardworking, loving aunt.

One evening, Tadashi and Hiro decide to stay late at the lab with their friends to catch up on homework and personal projects. They’re all in the common area, working quietly and diligently (save for Fred, who is in the midst of reenacting stunt work from the subway battle scene in _Spider-Man 2_ ).

Honey Lemon is traveling back and forth the perimeter, collecting various supplies and chatting excitedly about her newest experiment.   She approaches Tadashi, who is sitting at one of the computers, typing away, and she’s about to ask him if he’s seen her micro spatula when she realizes he’s certainly not preoccupied with school work. He’s on a _dating site_.

Her eyes go wide. “Oh,” she says, awkwardly, and Tadashi cranes his neck to look at her. “Oh, um, wow. I—um, sorry. I never pegged you for personal ads, Tadashi.”

Everyone in the lab hears it, and Fred lets out a scandalized sound, while Wasabi nearly chokes on his coffee. Hiro, who is sitting at a lab bench with Gogo, stiffens.

“Personal ads?” Wasabi coughs out, and they all wait for Tadashi to explain.

There’s a beat of silence. Tadashi begins to turn red.

“It’s not for him!” Hiro finally barks, irritable. “It’s for Aunt Cass!”

Gogo raises a brow at the boy’s defensive tone, then pops her gum. “Aunt Cass, huh?” she says, and it’s difficult to tell whether she believes him.

Tadashi rubs the back of his head. “It is, actually,” he confirms, uncomfortably. “Hiro and I thought— _um_ , that maybe she could use some company?”

Honey Lemon coos at the sentiment. “That’s so sweet of you guys!” She smiles brightly before leaning in closer to the screen and seeing a photo of Cass’s potential date. “Wow, he’s cute!”

Gogo still seems slightly unconvinced about the whole thing, so she gets up from her seat to take a peek at the computer, as well. She quickly concludes the Hamada brothers are, in fact, telling the truth, because the man displayed on the computer screen definitely is not Tadashi’s type in any universe. First of all, he’s far too old. Secondly, he doesn’t look like Hiro.

“He’s not bad,” she remarks, dryly; “but, does your aunt even _want_ to date? She always seemed perfectly content, to me.”

Hiro shrugs. “Of course she’ll _say that_ , but—”

“—but, what?” Gogo interrupts. “Don’t tell me you think a woman isn’t happy unless she has a man in her life.”

“No way,” Hiro gapes. “I’m not saying that, at all! We just think—”

“Hey, I’d date your aunt,” Fred interjects, excitedly. “She’s hot! Plus, I’m willing to spend a pretty penny on treating her to a nice evening. I could get all the fine dining recs from Heathcliff, _for sure_.”

Wasabi shakes his head, not knowing where to start with that one.

“No offense, Fred,” Tadashi says, sheepishly; “but, we’d like to find someone a bit closer to her own age.”

Fred frowns, and Gogo pops her gum again. “Pot calling the kettle black,” she mutters, but no one hears her.

* * *

Somehow, Honey Lemon becomes the middle man in the whole grand scheme. She’s fairly invested, which surprises Tadashi and Hiro, but she insists she’s found dates for all her cousins and has been steadily working on getting her oldest niece to ask out a cute classmate. Honey Lemon is a natural matchmaker, it seems.

By now, two of the three man have been vetoed, mostly by Honey Lemon’s standards. She insists Candidate #1 responds to messages _way too_ quickly, which suggests desperation, and Candidate #2 doesn’t ask enough questions, which suggests not enough interest in Aunt Cass as a person.

She has a good feeling about Candidate #3, though. His name is Shinji. He works in San Fransokyo’s art district as a gallery director and, on the weekends, volunteers at the botanical gardens as a tour guide. He’s handsome, well-educated, has a great sense of humor, and: “Yes, Hiro, he seems wealthy.”

On a Wednesday afternoon, during Shinji’s lunch break, Honey Lemon arranges for them to meet him a block down from the café. The plan is to send him into the café first, place an order, then make small talk with Aunt Cass. Enough time will pass for Hiro, Tadashi and Honey Lemon to enter the café without suspicion; and, Hiro and Tadashi, seeing that their aunt is being sweet-talked, will assist any customers while Aunt Cass _hopefully_ engages in Shinji’s flirtations.

Hiro hopes this isn’t an intimidating scene: Three teenagers on a street corner, ready to judge the man’s worth and interrogate with even more questions. Honey Lemon is about to dig out her phone to check the time, but they spot Shinji across the street. He’s actually right on time, and Honey tries to suppress a small squeak, because, _wow_ , he’s even better-looking in person, she thinks.

Shinji is tall and fit and carries himself in a casual manner. He doesn’t seem pretentious, and he doesn’t speak condescendingly. He’s sweet and light-hearted, and he takes interest in Hiro and Tadashi all over again, commending their efforts to find their aunt a date. Honey introduces herself accordingly, explains her role, and she’s all cheer and excitement as she examines Shinji’s dark eyes and the handsome wrinkles around his mouth. Tadashi vaguely worries this man is going to take an interest in Honey Lemon, but his smiles are innocent and kind, and he eventually admits that Honey Lemon reminds him of his goddaughter. Really, this Shinji guy just seems like an all-round gentleman.

And, so, Honey directs Shinji toward the café. She chats his ear off in the process, but sends him on his lone way, and Honey turns to give Tadashi and Hiro a gleeful thumbs-up.

“This better work,” Hiro mutters, putting his hands on his hips, suddenly critical.

Tadashi ruffles Hiro’s hair—innocent enough—then, drapes his hand down to the boy’s neck and shoulders, giving a meaningful squeeze. Hiro practically melts.

“This is gonna be so great!” Honey Lemon exclaims as she jogs back up to them in her loud heels. “Aunt Cass was in the middle of taking someone’s order, but she looked _right at him_ when he entered. She was _totally_ checking him out.”

Hiro laughs, awkwardly. “That’s great,” he agrees.

“You certainly know what you’re doing,” Tadashi praises. “Way more than us.”

Honey lets out another squeal. “Okay, okay,” she says, calming herself down. She checks her phone for the time. They have another five minutes to wait before their scheduled appearance.

* * *

Inside the café, it’s packed. Everyone within a three block radius is stopping by the Lucky Cat Café for their afternoon fix, which is fairly standard for the peak lunch hour. Hiro, at his short (and, apparently, _invisible_ ) height, almost gets trampled by a group of hyperactive art students leaving the cafe.

“Hi, boys!” Aunt Cass cheerily greets over the hiss of the espresso machine. “Honey Lemon! It’s so good to see you!”

Honey Lemon grabs a table and scouts the café for Shinji. He’s at the bar, waiting for his order. Honey tries to appear nonchalant as she takes out her chemistry textbook. Shinji certainly hasn’t taken his eyes off Cass Hamada ( _good sign!_ ), and even Tadashi and Hiro wonder if their aunt can feel the man’s gaze on her back as she grinds more espresso.

The three get their answer the second Aunt Cass almost knocks over a stack of mugs. She’s flustered! She can feel the handsome man’s gaze, and she’s over-thinking her usually brisk handiwork. Tadashi steps behind the counter to give her a hand, catching a steaming cappuccino before the foam overflows. Hiro follows suit and takes the next customer’s order.

Aunt Cass grabs a few pastries for another customer and thanks them for their patience, then retrieves a paper cup. “The cappuccino is for him,” she says, nodding toward Shinji.

Tadashi transfers the milk and foam into the cup. “I’d say _you_ should probably give him this,” he says, gently pushing the completed drink into his aunt’s hands.

Aunt Cass opens her mouth to protest, but Tadashi turns and starts a fresh pot of coffee. From afar, Honey Lemon is watching the whole thing, beaming as Aunt Cass reluctantly moves to give Shinji his drink.

 _They’re talking_.

One by one, Honey Lemon, Tadashi and Hiro exchange hopeful glances. It’s hard to hear the full conversation over the chatter of other customers, but Hiro is able to catch the gist of it. Aunt Cass says something about needing to get back to her customers, but Shinji remarks about “her helpful employees,” to which she begins an insightful tangent about her genius nephews.

Finally, Shinji seems to pull her in with the request.

“I—Me? You mean— _Friday_? Oh, I don’t know, I’m usually dead to the world by 6 o’clock on Fridays! I couldn’t possibly— _oh_ , but _who’s_ performing at the Inkwell Jazz Club? _Well_ , yes, I’ve heard wonderful things! My poetry beat buddies are always trying to get me to see him when he’s in town, but seats are so expensive— _and_ , oh, _my_ , I couldn’t possibly—no, that’s okay—oh, that’s sweet! _What_? Oh, you’re just— _well_ , okay!”

She seems to agree before realizing it. Aunt Cass turns the brightest shade of red, and Tadashi can’t remember the last time he’s seen her so _flustered_. He tries to concentrate on ringing out a customer, but his eyes keep wandering back to his aunt who is now fanning herself with the café menu, embarrassed.

They watch Shinji jot down his number on a napkin, handing it to Aunt Cass with a charming smile on his face. She takes it, almost tearing it in half as she stuffs the fragile paper in her apron pocket. Another smile and a graze of her shoulder later, Shinji is turning to leave the café. He smiles at Honey Lemon as he passes to exit.

“Cass!” Honey Lemon squeals, hardly waiting ten seconds before revealing her enthusiasm. It is genuine, after all. She leaps from her seat. “This is so exciting!”

“A date, huh?” Tadashi teases, but Hiro, who is acting coy, reads through the goofy smile on his face. “Aunt Cass, _that’s great_.”

She buries her face in the menu she’s still holding. “Oh, I shouldn’t have agreed!”

Honey Lemon is quick to put a reassuring hand on her shoulder as she approaches. “ _No te preocupes_!” she chirps. “He was so charming and sweet—you will have a great time! When was the last time you had a night out?”

Aunt Cass’s embarrassment dissipates, only to be replaced by joy. Tadashi is more relieved than ever that Honey Lemon recruited herself into this whole thing. He doubts his ability to connect with his aunt the way Honey is currently doing so. It’s a female thing, he considers, but watching them is incredibly endearing.

“We’re happy for you, Aunt Cass,” Tadashi chimes in, moving to clear off a table. “I’m sure you’ll have a lot of fun.”

Hiro and Tadashi share an accomplish grin.

* * *

It’s an excruciating wait for Friday night. Thursday _drags_ , and Friday morning and afternoon are even worse.

Tadashi and Hiro opt for dinner from the café: Ham and cheese on croissants, paired with the leftover iced tea from the day. They’re happy Aunt Cass has the night off from making dinner, although they have to gently remind her not to spoil her appetite when she reaches into the pastry case for the second time, grabbing a doughnut.

They’re all waiting for Shinji in the café—(“It’s far too improper for him to see our home on the first date, boys!”)—and, as the minutes pass, it becomes increasingly difficult for Hiro not to make knowing eye-contact with his brother. Eventually, Tadashi has to kick him from underneath the table, because, _really_ , it’s not fair to Tadashi to feel the heat radiating from the younger boy’s large eyes, lustful beneath his ridiculously full, stunning lashes.

Tadashi clears his throat. “Stop it,” he silently mouths.

Hiro scoffs and finishes his sandwich.

It’s a very reversed scenario, Tadashi thinks. In all his eighteen years, never once has Aunt Cass waited idly for a date of Tadashi’s to show up. Aunt Cass would fuss, Tadashi is certain of that. She’d ask too many questions and tell embarrassing stories, and Tadashi is eternally grateful it’s not a phenomenon he’ll have to endure. Of course, _not_ dating leads Tadashi to a different set of worries, but Aunt Cass has never pushed Tadashi (or, even Hiro, for that matter) to pursue girls.

 _Still_.

Tadashi wonders more often than not if she suspects something might not be... _off_ about the two of them.

There’s a knock at the café door, and Aunt Cass immediately yelps.

Dutifully, Hiro stands to let Shinji in, and Aunt Cass quickly looks at her reflection in the café’s ornamental mirror to apply a final layer of lipstick (and wipe off some powdered sugar from the last jelly doughnut). Tadashi can’t help but smile, because their aunt looks beautiful. Her hair is up, and she’s wearing a blue ruffled wrap dress, and it’s nice to see Aunt Cass giddy with excitement for something that is for _herself_. Tadashi feels a pang of guilt for the ulterior motive and has to remind himself that, even if their intentions weren’t pure, Aunt Cass is, nonetheless, receiving a well-deserved evening out on the town.

Their aunt shuffles toward her date when he enters the café; and, like a classic gentleman, Shinji has brought her a small bouquet of flowers. The blush that spreads on Aunt Cass’s cheeks is visible even in the faded light, and it only deepens when Shinji reaches to help put on her coat.

“We’ll put these in water,” Tadashi says, taking the flowers from Aunt Cass.

Shinji smiles. “It was good to see you two again,” he says to Tadashi and Hiro.

Aunt Cass briefly hesitates. It’s clear her nephews are supportive of her date, but it still seems foreign to leave them on a Friday night like this. She’s had nights out with friends, even gone to romantic comedy movies alone, but a _date_ —it’s been so long, and Aunt Cass can’t shake the feeling that it must feel like she’s abandoning them, somehow.

Tadashi senses the uncertainty, and he smiles before pulling her in for a hug. “Don’t worry about us,” he says, warmly. “Just have fun.”

“Don’t stay up too late,” Aunt Cass chides as she hugs her eldest nephew. She then moves to pat the sides of Hiro’s cheeks. “Stay out of trouble,” she says—mostly to Hiro—and, although Hiro wants to roll his eyes with amusement, it’s hard not to smile at his worrying aunt.

“Love you, Aunt Cass,” he says, hugging her.

Shinji holds the door open for Aunt Cass as they exit. “I’ll have her home by 11 o’clock!” he says, somewhat awkwardly, but Hiro and Tadashi are nice enough to laugh at his lame line.

Tadashi secures the lock once the door is closed, and Aunt Cass makes a gesture to remind him to slide deadbolt, then points up the street to imply she’ll use the side door to the apartment upon her return. He nods, waving once last time as Aunt Cass and her date disappear around the corner.

“He’s kind of a nerd,” Hiro remarks as he wipes croissant crumbs from the table.

Tadashi laughs, not disagreeing. “Lucky for him, Aunt Cass likes nerds—otherwise, she wouldn’t have put up with us for all these years.”

Tadashi and Hiro clean the café dishes they used and shut off the lights before heading upstairs to the apartment. Mochi is waiting by the door, expectedly. Hiro pats the calico’s head and refills his food bowl, while Tadashi wanders over to the kitchen to grab a scratch pad. He knows he and Hiro will forget to leave Aunt Cass a note if they don’t do so, now. He jots down a greeting, adding that they hope she had a great time on her date and not to worry about checking on them when she returns.

“Just get some rest! We didn’t get murdered; we swear!” he writes.

He signs it for them both, and Hiro adds a cute Mochi sketch for good measure. When Hiro’s done, he sets the pen down and leans his arms on the counter.

“ _So_ ,” he begins, and it’s hard for him to contain his smile.

Tadashi smiles right back. “So,” he agrees, playfully.

They hold their gaze for several moments before Hiro breaks out in laughter. “Just come here,” Hiro says, crossly. He pulls Tadashi by the collar of his shirt and stretches onto his tip-toes so he can kiss his brother. Openly kissing in the kitchen—Hiro doesn’t think they’ve ever done this. “ _Mm_ , I like this.”

They have a little over five hours. It’s quite a long time. When Tadashi teasingly suggests they should watch a movie, he’s stunned when Hiro’s eyes widen with excitement.

“Okay!” Hiro agrees, and he’s already in the living room, going through the DVDs.

Of course, it only takes Tadashi a second later to realize this is just some kind of foreplay.

* * *

Tadashi watches the clock, carefully. They start off on opposite ends of the couch. For a while, Mochi is between them, grooming himself and being quite content with the dark living room and the easy volume from the television set. Fifteen minutes into the movie, Mochi has left to eat from his dish, and Hiro abandons all concentration and winds up on Tadashi’s lap. He’s sucking at the nape of his older brother’s neck, sighing contently at the feeling of Tadashi’s arms wrapping around his body. _Foreplay, indeed,_ Tadashi thinks. After all, how many times had they sat through a movie with Aunt Cass nearby, smothering every desire to crawl into each other’s arms to embrace and cuddle and _kiss_?

When Tadashi slides his hand under Hiro’s shirt, he feels the goose bumps rise, and he smiles inwardly, appreciating the sensitivity of his soft flesh. He kisses Hiro’s forehead, tells him how beautiful he is, and Hiro visibly blushes.

“You’re so cheesy,” Hiro mocks, but his face is still red.

For several minutes, all they do is kiss and touch. Very straight forward, very standard. Hiro even takes a moment to turn off the television. But, when Tadashi pulls Hiro closer and the younger boy whimpers, Hiro can feel Tadashi react beneath him. Hiro smirks and wastes no time tugging at his brother’s belt and jeans.

A small hand, still clumsy, touches Tadashi, whose breath catches at the contact. Tadashi keeps their chests fused while Hiro’s fingers stroke him, and he makes sure to give Hiro reassuring kisses along his chin and neck before removing the boy’s shirt.

Hiro’s hands begin to work more frantically. He’s smirking, now, wanting to elicit more of a reaction from Tadashi, who is always frustratingly poised. But, he knows Tadashi likes it when he makes soft cries, so he presses closer and rubs against him for good measure; and, when Tadashi feels just how hard Hiro is, the boy gives the smallest of whines. Tadashi’s eyes shut, and he whispers his brother’s name.

Hiro works his way down, pulling Tadashi’s pants off in the process. “We don’t have to be quiet,” he reminds him.

“Mm, I know,” Tadashi replies, and he sounds happy, relieved. He reaches out and brushes through Hiro’s soft, shaggy hair, urging him to move. Hiro does. He lean ins, lips gently making contact with the tip of Tadashi’s erection. “ _God_.”

The inflamed look in Hiro’s eyes, full of lust, _desire_ —it drives Tadashi wild. They’re both still pretty inept, but Hiro knows how to tease. Just like he knows Tadashi loves hearing him whimper. Just like he knows Tadashi loves watching him slide down between his legs, loves watching him prepare to take his cock into his small mouth.

“Hiro...” Tadashi repeats—this time, so much louder.

Hiro’s mouth is engulfing him while tiny, determined hands slide beneath his shirt. Tadashi doesn’t know how Hiro does it, how he can possibly concentrate on the movements of his mouth while simultaneously working his hands against the skin of his chest. Tadashi gasps and grunts at every clever stimulation. Hiro’s mouth is wet and _hot_ , and the brief pause that occurs—Tadashi counts the seconds: _One, two, three_ —is in preparation for the younger boy to work his brother’s erection further down his throat, as far as it will go until he makes a stifled gag. Tadashi tries to pull back, but Hiro is assertive, and he holds his place until his eyes burn. He nearly chokes again before he releases Tadashi from his mouth only briefly— _Tadashi exhales_ —before working the length back in his mouth.

Hiro moans around Tadashi’s cock, pumping him in and out and using his hands where necessary. Tadashi’s own hands momentarily flail as he reaches out for something—anything—to grip onto, until he settles for entwining his fingers into Hiro’s hair, pulling him forward. He feels his cock press into the back of Hiro’s throat, and he groans before giving Hiro a fair warning.

Hiro’s eyes flutter open when he feels Tadashi’s release. He does his best to swallow it, but a fair amount escapes when he pulls away too quickly. Hiro still smirks, far too satisfied with his work, and he wipes the sticky fluid with the back of his hand as he straddles himself back onto Tadashi’s lap.

“Good?” Hiro asks. He kisses Tadashi deeply, wanting him to taste.

Tadashi sighs into the kiss, pulling Hiro’s small frame closer. He nods and whispers they should continue this in their room. Hiro chuckles before giving a mischievous look. He squirms his way behind Tadashi, clasping at his broad shoulders, silently demanding that his older brother give him a piggyback up the stairs. Tadashi rolls his eyes and complies, making sure to collect the scattered clothing from the floor before heading up the stairs.

“So strong,” Hiro teases, and although it’s mostly patronizing, Tadashi can still feel the heat of his brother’s breath against his neck.

Upstairs, Tadashi plops Hiro onto his bed and immediately pulls at the boy’s shorts and underwear. It’s such a rewarding sight to see Hiro laying there on Tadashi’s bed, naked and lustful and so goddamn willing. Tadashi removes his own shirt before crawling onto the bed over his brother, where they continue their game. Sounds are twisted into a compilation of rustled sheets and deep breathing and _loud, free language_.

Tadashi keeps his mouth on Hiro’s neck as he begins to touch him. “You’re so hard, Hiro,” he tells him, gripping at his brother’s cock that twitches and leaks and feels so ridiculously good in Tadashi’s hand.

Hiro makes a distressed noise, practically panting.   He can feel Tadashi’s other hand trail down his spine, slow and teasing, before disappearing even lower. There’s a sound of a plastic bottle opening—the faintest of _clicks_ —and, soon, a single slick finger is pressing against him.

“ _Ah_ , T-Tadashi,” he pleads. He wants to pull Tadashi closer, feel every inch of his brother’s bare skin against his, but their chests are already collided, and all Hiro can do is wrap his legs around the larger body, begging for more.

Tadashi does that thing again with his breath—a sharp, almost melodramatic exhale—but, he can’t help it. He’s constantly reminding himself to breathe, because controlling himself around Hiro is mentally and physically exhausting.

Hiro shifts his hips and begins to fall back on the pillows, spreading himself wider. Tadashi adds another finger. The look on Hiro’s face is flushed and needy. Tadashi briefly pauses his ministrations to lean over and kiss Hiro thoroughly on the mouth.

Hiro has to keep reminding himself he doesn’t have to be quiet, but the past several months have conditioned him to believe otherwise. He’s still whining through his clamped teeth until Tadashi twists his fingers and rubs against _that spot_. He throws his head back and cries out.

“Tadashi,” he pants, squirming against his brother’s touch. He can feel Tadashi’s knuckles brushing against his entrance, and he whimpers. “Tadashi, don’t tease me— _please_ , oh, God.”

Hiro is loud, now. Sprawled out, Hiro already looks like a wreck, and Tadashi knows neither of them have much patience, at this point. Tadashi removes his fingers and readjusts himself over Hiro.

“Is this what you want?” he taunts, pressing the head of his cock against Hiro’s entrance.

“ _Tadashi_ ,” Hiro repeats, and it’s more heated this time, slightly angered.

Tadashi lets out a small laugh and touches Hiro with his free hand. He’s throbbing, _aching_ , but Tadashi wants to hear that whine one more time—“ _Tadashi_ , please!”—before he slides, inch by inch, inside his brother.

Desperately, Hiro throws his arms over Tadashi, pulling him in as Tadashi sets up a rhythm. It’s good— _so good_. Hiro makes sure Tadashi knows this by yelling out every praise and dirty word he can muster.

Hiro locks their lips together in sloppy, wet and uneven kisses, and he feels his entire body vibrate every time Tadashi moans into his mouth.

“ _Harder_ ,” Hiro complains, the word coming out in a hiss as he demands more contact. “I don’t care if it hurts—just, _harder_. Please.”

It takes a moment, but Tadashi submits to his brother’s neediness. He watches Hiro’s expression carefully as he roughly pushes in, relishing in how Hiro’s brow knits together, how his mouth is left agape, how his cheeks flush. It drives Tadashi mad to see Hiro so vulnerable and flustered; so overcome with sensations that his mind and body cannot seem to comprehend. He’s so goddamn beautiful, _it hurts_.

Heatedly, Hiro pants his brother’s name again, and he constricts and pushes against every hard thrust. It spurs Tadashi to increase his pace, holding Hiro close and touching him, but constantly keeping him only on the edge of climax. Somewhere, buried in his mind, Tadashi thinks about how wrong this is, how terribly, terribly wrong it is to be pounding into his little brother, only to be fueled further by how he winces and gasps. It’s so unlike Tadashi’s typical self. He never wants to do anything to hurt Hiro. Hiro is his world, and he’s more than happy to do anything in his power to _give_ Hiro the world; but, when his baby brother looks at him with that ravaged expression, needy and desperate and so _fucking sexy_ , Tadashi’s mind fogs, and all the passion that burns for Hiro warps into a miraculous need to please Hiro until he is sore and bruised and _happy_.

“Tadashi,” he pants, and his legs and arms are desperately clinging again— _so close, so close_.

Tadashi breathes his brother’s name as he strokes him. He leans down, fusing their lips, and Hiro gasps into the kiss, feeling his entire body come undone.

“ _T-Tadashi_ —!”

Hiro’s body quakes, and it only takes one glance at his brother’s shaken appearance for Tadashi to climax, as well.

The silence, save for their breathing, seems strange, now. Hiro is still clinging to Tadashi, and Tadashi makes sure to kiss every inch of his neck, settling him from the aftershocks. Soon, they catch their breath and adjust their positions. Tadashi is quick to dab a spare cloth at both their skin and the sheets, cleaning any excess evidence that might raise questions from Aunt Cass on laundry day.

Hiro wipes his brow and happily sighs into the pillow. “Amazing,” he notes, looking at Tadashi with lingering lust. “God, I wish it could always be this easy.”

“I know,” Tadashi agrees, pressing a kiss against his brother’s forehead. Hiro responds by kissing him on the lips. It’s hard to keep their hands and mouths off each other, even now. “Let’s hope Aunt Cass hits it off with this guy,” he says with a shrug.

After a few minutes, Hiro glances at the clock. “I think we have _quite_ some time before she comes home,” he notes, and he pulls Tadashi into another kiss.

* * *

The next morning, when Hiro and Tadashi awaken to the strong aroma of pancakes, they find Aunt Cass humming happily in the kitchen as she works back and forth between the oven and pantry. Tadashi smiles at his aunt and gives her a sturdy hug before grabbing some dishes from the cabinet to help setup the table.

“How was the date?” Tadashi asks, trying not to sound too invested. The note they left Aunt Cass on the scratch pad is moved, indicating she read it upon her return last night. “Hope you didn’t get back too late.”

Aunt Cass beams as she flips pancakes and tells Hiro and Tadashi, in detail, how talented and charismatic the jazz performer was, how she and her date got to meet him afterwards and had their programs autographed and everything.

“It was just so fun!” she concludes, turning off the stove.

Hiro, who has taken a seat at the table, yawns but obediently rearranges some silverware. He hasn’t brushed his hair yet, which is far from abnormal, but Aunt Cass can’t help but think her youngest nephew looks more tired than usual.

“And, Shinji?” Hiro carefully inquires.

Aunt Cass shrugs as she distributes pancakes on each of their plates. “Oh, he’s sweet,” she says; “but, I don’t think we’re going to go out again. Really, he’s _a gem_ , but I don’t know. Dating is just so... _bizarre_. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it. It was nice to have a night out, though.”

When Aunt Cass turns her back to retrieve the pitcher of orange juice, Hiro and Tadashi look at each other, both surprised and disappointed. Hiro then makes a not-so-discreet raspberry noise and slumps into his chair. He’s actually quite offended. Shinji suddenly seems like a failed project, and Hiro hates failure.

“What’s wrong, honey?” Aunt Cass asks when she wanders back to the table.

Hiro adjusts his posture. “Oh, nothing—just tired.” He pauses, considers what the next step is, and quickly brightens up. “Hey, Aunt Cass?”

“Hmm—what is it?” she asks, taking a seat.

Hiro smiles, smugly. “You know how Fred is really rich? _Well_ , here’s an idea.”


End file.
